


I Stay When You're Lost

by Carlet



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, post 5x02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 15:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12915189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carlet/pseuds/Carlet
Summary: "He could only imagine how much pain she was in—being impaled sounded like the most excruciating thing ever, and this was coming from someone who had literally been stabbed in the chest."Or basically tooth-rotting Philinda fluff and cuddling because let's face it—we all need it after that episode.Takes place post 5x01 and 5x02.





	I Stay When You're Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by New Years Day by Taylor Swift

"I guess we'll need to figure out where you can all go tonight." Tess said, scratching her head.

"Technically night doesn't exist." Mack quipped, crossing his arms. "Seeing as we're..."

"It's just a figure of speech, Mack." Coulson interrupted. "Chill out."

"Chill out?! In case you don't remember, Simmons has been captured by those smurf on steroids and Daisy disappeared to god knows where on this godforsaken...I don't even know what to call it!"

May raised an eyebrow. "Tell us how you really feel."

Tess looked around for a beat. "Look, I get that this is...an adjustment. But you have to keep it down. We'll work on finding your friends in the morning. But it's getting late and we've all had a long day." She turned and started walking down the dimly lit hall. "Everyone here is basically assigned a room, based on where they're from. Now of course for you..well luckily there are usually some spares, because..."

"We get it." May responded, the memory of the glorified murder spree coming back to mind.

Tess nodded. "Come on."

Mack and Yo-Yo followed her, falling into a comfortable pace. Their hands brushed every so often as they walked, and finally Yo-Yo grabbed Mack’s.

The sound of uneven footsteps to his left caused Coulson to pause for a moment. Next to him, May was limping, miraculously managing to keep up with Tess's rapid pace. He frowned. In the back of his mind he'd been meaning to ask about the talk day, but other events (their survival) had taken precedent. "How's the leg?"

"How do you think?" May responded curtly. He didn't need to turn his head to know that, judging by her tight voice, her jaw was clenched, and her shoulders likely tight with tension.

"What happened?"

"Pipe went through my leg."

He winced. "I can't believe you're still walking."

"Not like I have a choice."

Before he could counter that (not that he really could), Tess stopped in front of a pair of doors. “And here we are. So I guess you two,” she nodded at Mack and Yo-Yo, and then the door on the right. “You can go here, while you two can take that room?”

Yo-Yo paused, her gaze lingering on Coulson and May. “Are you okay with that?” There was a hint of a teasing lilt in her voice. “Or maybe May and I can take one and Coulson can go with Mack.”

“I thought…” Tess started, looking from Mack and Yo-Yo’s entwined hands, to May and Coulson, who stood close together, but without the same contact. She shook her head. “Sorry, never mind.”

Cue the awkward silence. Coulson could feel Tess’s stare on him and May, and honestly he had no idea what to say. He knew Mack and Yo-Yo would prefer to bunk together, but after the day she’d had, all he wanted was to make sure May was comfortable (as comfortable as she could be in this dystopian nightmare, that is).

“It’s fine.” May spoke up after a moment, surprising all parties involved. “You and Mack can take that room.”

Mack nodded, clearly not about to argue. “Well, goodnight then.”

Tess and Yo-Yo murmured their replies, with Tess adding that she would come to find them the next morning. Coulson followed May into their room, a narrow, cramped bunk sparsely outfitted with a basin in the corner and a chair.

And a thin cot.

“Oh. Y-you can take the bed.” Coulson said automatically, but somewhat reluctantly. The floor did not look particularly inviting, what with the cold metal floor and lack of any carpet or anything soft.

May tossed her jacket onto the chair, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Phil. You wouldn’t last five minutes on the floor.”

Well, he couldn’t disagree with that. “If you’re sure.”

She just snorted as she limped over five steps to the cot, grimacing as she sat down gingerly on its edge. "Which side do you want? Let me guess, the left as always?"

"How did you guess?" Coulson joked. "Although I gotta say, I'm starting to miss those caves and crappy safe houses."

May slid over to the side closest to the wall. "I dunno. Freezing to death in an abandoned shack in the woods versus the end of the world? Tough choice."

But although her words were light, Phil didn't need to look over at his partner to notice her weariness and frustration.

He sat down, careful to keep a distance (however minuscule it was, seeing as the cot was built for one, maybe two small adults) between them. It was a distance they'd barely paid attention to in the past, but a distance necessitated by events as of late. Phil’s fingers itched to reach out and touch hers, to comfort here, to hold her smaller hand in the same way he'd seen Mack do with Yo-Yo earlier. But the maybe inch of space between them suddenly felt endless.

Melinda reached up to pull her hair back, and the metric on her wrist caught the light, drawing Phil's attention to the dried blood caked on her arm. He'd thought it was from her leg, but....

Her words from earlier came back to him. You think I’d let you do that to anyone else, she'd said.

He grabbed her arm, turning her wrist up to the light.

"What the hell?" She scoffed, pulling her arm out of his grip.

“What did you mean earlier, when Deke mentioned the metrics?” He grabbed her arm again, examining her wrist. Although shiny black metrics had been installed for both of them, he could see an angry red line surrounding the black circle, and dried blood matted around it. Whereas for him, there wasn’t much of a scar.

“How do you think he installed that damn thing?” Melinda scoffed. But she’d relaxed her arm, allowing Phil to continue holding onto it.

Oh. Oh, no. “My God. T-hat must’ve hurt,” he responded, from lack of anything better to say.

“Yes, someone stabbing your arm with a knife tends to.”

“I can’t believe…I’m so sorry.” An image of her being pulled along by Deke to negotiate with those Kree guards flashed before his mind. Melinda looking tired, weak and worn out, and bent at the waist from pain.

“It’s fine. No need to overreact.” Melinda said. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

“You could’ve bled out!” Phil protested. “And along with your leg? You can’t keep pretending like everything’s okay, May! You don’t need to.”

“I’m not the one you need to worry about!” Melinda argued, her eyes flashing with one parts frustration and two parts fear. “Simmons…” She sighed, her nostrils flaring. "And Daisy..."

"Hey. I'm sure Daisy's fine. She can take care of herself. And don't forget Simmons spent six months-"

"Alone on an alien planet, I know." Melinda finished. "But still..she was right there. And I just let her go."

"Because that what she wanted you to do. But you can't save them all." He argued. "They'll be fine. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out."

Melinda didn’t answer. Instead, she sighed deeply, shuffling around on the narrow cot to try and find a more comfortable position. She landed on her wounded thigh, hissing with pain in response.

Phil looked at her sympathetically. He could only imagine how much pain she was in—being impaled sounded like the most excruciating thing ever, and this was coming from someone who had literally been stabbed in the chest.

He paused for a moment. Should he reach out and offer? He knew how squirrelly May was about physical contact, and always tried hard to give her the chance to reach out first. But one look at her resigned expression and he knew he had to at least try.

“May I?” He asked gently.

Without even asking, Melinda seemed to know what he was trying to say. She nodded.

Phil reached out and gently started to massage her thigh, careful to avoid the area covered by the bandage. Melinda sighed with relief, her face and posture relaxing as the pressure was eased.

“Better?” He asked after a moment.

“Mmhm.” She responded. Her head came down to rest on his shoulder, and his heart nearly stopped. It was almost wrong, the way her hair smelled nearly exactly the same way her LMD counterpart had, and his mind flashed back to the one brief moment of bliss and euphoria in the library before it had all come crashing down.

Keeping one hand on her leg, repeating his motions in a slow, soothing manner, he reached up with the other and wrapped it gingerly around her shoulders. He half expected Melinda to protest or push him away, suddenly realizing how close they’d literally gotten, but she remained silent, her eyes closed with relief.

“We’re going to be okay.” He whispered. A huge part of him knew that no matter how brave Melinda appeared, even she felt defeated and hopeless. He hugged her tighter, hoping that admittedly small action would bring her the comfort she so desperately needed.

Even The Calvary was only human.

“I hope so.” Melinda murmured. She straightened her head and looked up at him, her eyes more vulnerable than he’d ever seen.

“No, I know.” Phil insisted. “We just have to have faith.”

“You’re starting to sound like Mack.”

“But you know I’m right.”

“For once.” Melinda quipped. But a brief hint of a smile appeared on her face. “Since when do not we kick ass?”

Before he knew what was happening, he felt her lips on hers. He froze for a split second, completely shocked. But then it all came rushing at him. Melinda. Her unique scent, unmistakable even in this dank, dirty ship, the feeling of her, it all overtook his senses so that for a moment they nearly forgot where they were.

He’d been wrong. This was nothing like the LMD. This was real.

She pulled away, her lips wonderfully red and her cheeks flushed. “I-I know we said we wanted to take a step back, but…” Melinda looked away. “Well…we’re probably going to die tomorrow so…”

“You read my mind.” He responded, feeling perfectly, wonderfully, purely gleeful for the first time since her LMD had stepped back and raised her gun to his head. “I swear you have your own inhuman powers.”

“Dork.” She teased.

“You know you love it.”

“Yeah,” Melinda said softly. “I do.” She leaned in to kiss him chastely, and then pulled away again. “Phil?”

“Yes?” He said almost eagerly.

“Turn off the damn light.”

Holding back a chuckle, he reached up to flick the switch, leaving the room flooded in darkness. Melinda fell back onto the bed, pulling him with her, snuggling into him and resting her head onto his chest. His arm came up to bring her closer, and she sighed with contentment.

And for the first time that day he felt something he thought he never would again.

Hopeful. They would be okay.


End file.
